An updated take on a classic Greek myth.

Imagine taking a story that’s already really sad, and then making it a hundred times sadder. That’s what playwright Sarah Ruhl does with the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice in “Eurydice”, and CU Players’ take on the update gives it all the devastatingly emotional twists and turns it deserves with its stunningly talented cast and beautiful production. 

I haven’t been this enchanted by umbrellas since The Nanny Diaries, or this angry about stones since…ever. “Eurydice” does a lot with inanimate objects, making you have feelings about everything from “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare” to a bunch of strings. Countering these are very animated performances from our leads, Eurydice (Elli Furukawa, BC ’19), Orpheus (Jordan Mahr, CC ’20), and Father (Mario Garcia, CC ’21). Furukawa showcases hilariously contorted facial expressions as well as ballet and singing skills. Mahr is also a triple threat, staying true to Orpheus’ love of music with his acoustic guitar and strong voice.

This play deals with serious subject matter. It includes trigger warnings for sexual assault, suicide, and the death of a loved one. It might follow that it’s not particularly lighthearted. In fact, I was tearing up ten minutes in.  This is mostly due to Garcia’s performance as Eurydice’s late father, who can watch his daughter from the underworld but never contact her. (Get ready for the saddest wedding scene ever). One of the few souls who has retained the ability to read, write, and speak, he sends Eurydice letters from beyond the grave. Eurydice soon meets her untimely end, after some confusion and interference from the Little Stone (Mira Soni, CC ’21), the Big Stone (Stacy Grinberg, CC’ 18), and the Loud Stone (Cybale Mayes-Osterman, BC ’20), she and her father are reunited. Maybe the underworld isn’t so bad after all.

However, staying true to the original myth, Orpheus seeks to retrieve his love. And because these myths were meant to teach lessons, the mission is unsuccessful. However, Ruhl complicates the story – instead of Orpheus succumbing to his impatience and lack of faith, Eurydice calls out his name, knowingly ending their second chance at life. But why? Eurydice is torn between imperfect loves – those of her husband and father. In the end, she gets neither, only a promise from the terrifying and sadistic Lord of the Underworld (Spencer Tilghman, CC ’19) that he will wed and bed her that night.

The story ends with the worst of the worst case scenarios. Rather than without Eurydice, her father purposefully dips himself in the river, losing his literacy and his memory. Rather than marry the Lord of the Underworld, Eurydice does the same. And rather than live without love, Orpheus ends his own life, met by nobody. No one is happy except for the cruel and childish stones.

But you’re happier for having seen and supported such excellent student theater. Shoutouts go to choreographer Chantel Woo (BC ’20) and the scenic/set design team for making great use out of the limited space in the Glicker-Milstein Theatre. Direction. The sound and lighting give the theatre an immersive feel, taking you from the beach to the land of the dead in a matter of moments and making you believe it. Isaac Jiffar (CC ’18) directs his actors to great emotional effect. Everything in the show is brutal, moving, or brutally moving. Go and see it while you can.

Tickets are available for Friday and Saturday, and are $5.50 for CUID holders ($10.50 otherwise).